


Just A Little Snack

by 1JettaPug



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Comfort, Comfort Sex, Feeding Kink, Gentle Sex, Hand Feeding, Kissing, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to work for that kind of dessert.” He murmured, servos still roaming around Ratchet’s sides.<br/>“Is that an order?” Ratchet’s optics glinted, amused.<br/>“A direct order,” Optimus nodded, one of his servos reaching into the basket to pull out another slice of cake. “Now open up.” His voice was gentle, and the CMO did as he was asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Little Snack

Ratchet stood in the back of the medical bay, at the large basin sink used to clean and sterilize tools. He was working on one of his scalpels, one of the laser ones needing a different sort of maintenance than simple cleaning. 

Outside the medical bay, Optimus had just gotten all the required materials for his and Ratchet’s time together tonight. Knowing that this was the end of his sparkmate’s shift, the Prime knew that Ratchet was at the back of the bay probably washing up. He made his way over there, moving far more quietly than one might expect by looking at him and carefully hid the basket that he was carrying behind his back when he entered the room.

“I apologize for interrupting," Optimus said softly as his optics met Ratchet’s. “But I couldn’t wait before we got back to our room.”

“You couldn’t wait, huh?” Ratchet almost smiled, just almost. “Can you at least wait until I’m off duty then, Optimus?”

“You are off duty.” The Prime’s voice floated gently. “Your shift ended over five minutes ago.” His optics were now flickering over his mate, obviously checking him out. Of course, Optimus enjoyed seeing Ratchet’s plump, soft belly, but he also paid great attention to all the other parts of his mate as well. His optics traced invisible lines from his sparkmate’s helm, to his servos, and all the way down to his pedes. To him, Ratchet was perfect and beautifully so.

On the other hand, Ratchet grunted at his mate’s words. Didn’t matter. Off duty, on duty. As CMO he really was never off duty- especially if Wheeljack was working on something- but he could make exceptions for Optimus.

“And since you are off duty,” Optimus said, bringing the basket into the light and setting it on top of the counter. “I’d thought I’d bring you a little snack.” He lifted the lid up and before his sparkmate even got a glimpse of the basket, but Ratchet could smell the aroma and it smelled absolutely delicious.

“You seemed to have brought a lot for a light snack." Ratchet’s optics eyed the contents of the basket before he decided to deal with the rest of the tools later, leaving them soaking and shutting off the water. He moved to dry his servos, then leaned against the counter.

Optimus moved closer to him, his servo moving across the top of the counter until it brushed up against the side of Ratchet’s pudgy belly. “And you deserve to eat and enjoy every little bit of it.” He rumbled deeply as his servo reached into the basket and pulled out a slice of cake.

“Hmm, is that so?” Ratchet grinned.

“Very much so,” The Prime spoke softly as he lifted the slice carefully and brought it to his mate’s lips. His optics watched as Ratchet painstakingly took his time biting down on the dessert and took even longer to swallow it. Ratchet moaned softly at the taste of it. The cake was rich and creamy, a red velvet cake with an icing top, and soft middle texture. He carefully licked his lips where icing had gotten on him and wasn’t surprised when Optimus leaned down abruptly and forced his lips against Ratchet’s, glossa intruding, needy. He was only surprised when Optimus broke their deep kiss.

“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to work for that kind of dessert.” He murmured, servos still roaming around Ratchet’s sides.

“Is that an order?” Ratchet’s optics glinted, amused.

“A direct order,” Optimus nodded, one of his servos reaching into the basket to pull out another slice of cake. “Now open up.” His voice was gentle, and the CMO did as he was asked. The richness of the dessert making him moan once more at its wonderful taste, opening immediately for another bite as soon as he'd swallowed.

Optimus granted his sparkmate’s wish by bringing up another piece for him to eat next. It almost filled Ratchet's entire mouth, icing smeared on his lip as he offlined his optics and savored it. Optimus fed him bite after bite like that until they were down to the last piece.

Only once Ratchet had swallowed the last bite did the Prime lean in to kiss him, licking the icing off in an indulgent gesture of his own as he settled his servo on his mate’s pudgy belly. His other servo gently went to tug Ratchet’s helm to one side. Optimus lowered his mouth onto Ratchet’s neck, rubbing at the cabling with his lip plates.

“O- Optimus,” Ratchet murmured and then winced as Optimus bit down, the servo on his belly suddenly groping and grapping a handful of the flab. He moaned softly as the Prime’s lips left soft kisses on his cheek. When Ratchet went to return a few kisses of his own, Optimus turned his head to the side.

“But-” he was cut off by a quick kiss full on the mouth.

As much as Optimus wanted to continue to make out, he knew there’d be more time for that later. "Not going to finish, Ratchet?" He chuckled deeply.

Ratchet was half considering wiping that infuriating smile off of Optimus’ face for a few clicks before he figured he’d do that later. “I would probably be done by now if it weren’t for your little distractions.”

“Hmm, I’m distracting you now am I?” The Prime murmured, giving a quick pinch to his mate’s squishy belly.

“Ye- Yes you are,” Ratchet blushed furiously, taking a hold of the other’s servo.

“Then allow me to present you with a different distraction, sweetspark. Offline your optics for a moment…” 

Ratchet did as he was told, and Optimus reached into the basket and pulled out another dessert. When the CMO onlined his optics again, there was another cake before him. It was a single, triple-layer vanilla affair, with raspberry crème filling. It was certainly and liberally frosted with a thick layer of delicious buttercream icing, and the top was decorated with a circle of carefully formed meringues.

“You,” Optimus murmured, lifting his lover’s head with his free servo, “are going to eat every last bite for me.”

“Or?” Ratchet shivered, almost in spite of himself, as Optimus nuzzled down his neck cables once more. 

“There is no “or” in this,” Optimus said, idly stroking one hand down Ratchet’s chubby belly, tracing several patterns against his softened plating. “I remember giving you an order.” The Prime then turned his helm and bit down on one of the cables. He brushed up against the bitten cable as he mumbled, “Don’t make me beg now, Ratchet.”

Ratchet’s system lit up with pleasure, a combination of Optimus’ husky voice and the feel of that familiar, wanting body against his. Optimus raised a morsel of cake to his mate’s lips and Ratchet took a small bite, chewed thoughtfully, and proceeded to run his tongue across his lips, seeking any missed traces of frosting as he pondered the flavor. Optimus flushed with pleasure the second he heard the faint groan that escaped Ratchet's lips.

That moment only lasted a few seconds, however, before Optimus raised another slice of cake that he had eagerly lain before his mate. Ratchet happily took the piece into his mouth, devouring and swallowing it in a mere moment. Ratchet was completely certain that it had been a great deal of time since he’d last tasted something so delicious.

Piece after piece of more of that delightful cake being brought into his mouth, the CMO eagerly gobbled up each one. Good thing too cause Optimus was practically moving another slice between his lips the very second he opened his mouth.

Soon each slice was a bit larger than the last, icing smearing across those supple lips and crumbs scattering down the front of Ratchet’s plating. However, like all good things, this one was starting to wind down to an end. Indeed, the icing was that perfect balance of sweet and creamy, melting in his mouth, and the cake itself was most likely one of the best he’s ever had, but Ratchet was starting to get a little full.

As soon as the last piece was eaten and gone, Ratchet sighed in a bit of relief. His sigh turned into a little moan as Optimus laid his servos on his belly and rubbed them up and down on the flab ever so carefully.

“Think you can handle something else,” The Prime hummed as he nuzzled against his mate. “Or are you finished?”

Ratchet thought about it for a moment and decided that he could probably handle some more. He could handle something else that wasn’t more cake anyway.

“Let’s get started with these then,” Optimus replied with a smile and not without a hint of excitement in his voice. Pulling a box out of the basket, Optimus didn’t miss how Ratchet licked his lips when he saw it. Doughnuts. The CMO was a sucker for these treats every time. “Now if you want to stop, you know what to say.” Optimus reminded him, holding the first doughnut up to his mate's lips.

“I know.” Even with the slightly weighted feeling he was getting in his belly from all the cake that he ate, Ratchet leaned forward to take the doughnut from Optimus' fingers, enveloping the tips between his lips before he pulled back and bit down. He made a pleased sound as he bit into the treat and swallowed it down easily.

As soon as he'd finished the first one, Optimus was already holding a second one up for him to take, his other servo now lying on Ratchet’s pudgy belly, rubbing slow circles against the curve of it. Ratchet ate the second bite happily, the fourth one, and the sixth were all different kinds of flavors that kept him wondering and wanting more. Before he knew it, he was at eleven doughnuts, and then twenty-two, and he swallowed the glazed morsel more thickly than the last, starting to feel a heavy pressure building up in his belly.

With both servos now rubbing on his belly, Ratchet moaned as a quick jolt of discomfort ran through his systems. Optimus instantly embraced his mate and moved his own servos alongside Ratchet’s in a means of providing care.

“Are you finished?” The Prime asked quietly as he kneaded the other’s chubby belly. Ratchet merely nodded as he felt it wouldn’t be wise to test any sort of boundaries tonight. Fully understanding, Optimus placed a kiss on Ratchet’s lips before taking one arm and supporting him as they made their way out of the medical bay and down to their room.

"I never wanna see another cake for as long as I function…" Ratchet grumbled.

Optimus could only nod at Ratchet’s words as he opened the door to their room, one arm supporting his sparkmate. He closed the door closed behind them as they slowly walked inside.

"At least you acknowledged your stopping point," The Prime said as he gently brought his mate into an embrace.

“Mmm, it was so good though,” He moaned softly, one servo resting against his tender, pudgy belly. “But a snack rather than a full dessert course would’ve been a lot lighter.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier.” Optimus’ deep voice rumbled in his chassis. 

“Well I couldn’t really complain when I hadn’t had a single thing to eat earlier today.”

“You should’ve told me,” Optimus’ servos slowly began to rub over Ratchet’s belly. “I would’ve brought you something sooner.”

“You can’t miss any time in your work schedule, Optimus”.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “I would make all the time in the universe for you.”

"Oh really?" Ratchet smiled, wincing just a bit as they made their way around a table covered in datapads. His stomach really did ache right now. "Your responsibilities are whatever I make them?"

“Sweetspark, you are my responsibility,” Optimus smiled back at him. “I’d do anything for you.” The two of them walked over to their berth and laid down side by side. Ratchet groaning again as he pretty much collapsed onto the bed, still feeling discomfort.

Suddenly, there was a servo on his midsection, gentle and comforting. Ratchet's pained frown lessened as Optimus began rubbing his aching stomach in slow, soothing circles.

"Feel any better?" he asked quietly.

Ratchet stifled a moan which wasn’t from the pain. Yes. Good Primus, his mate and his talented servos were both wonderful to him right now. Kneading, rubbing and the occasional pinch were more than enough to relax him and reassure him that his sparkmate was going to take the pain away. Optimus' servo was firm but at the same time surprisingly gentle, the ache in his pudgy belly reduced to a dull memory beneath his ministrations. "Hmm… You could’ve done this over five clicks ago…” he half-heartedly complained.

The two of them continued like that in silence for another few minutes, no sound but their steady breathing in the near-darkness. Optimus’ servo never pulled away, never allowing Ratchet to long for its warmth and comfort when it was right there. It was bliss for the first time all day, and Ratchet didn’t even notice when he fell into recharge.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ratchet woke up around six, just before his and Optimus’ shifts started, to find a warm, very solid body asleep next to him, and then he remembered what happened last night.

He sighed and rolled over onto his side, draping an arm over Optimus' waist and curling up against him. Ratchet really didn’t want to get up just yet, and they could both sleep in a little, he thought. Probably.

Except Ratchet wasn't a very sound sleeper, because he’d barely gotten comfortable curled up next to his mate before he felt one of Optimus’ servos covering his. "Well aren't you waking up early," The Prime said sleepily.

"Nah..."

"Well, one part of you is anyway," 

Ratchet blushed furiously and buried his face in his sparkmate’s chassis. He grumbled, "Can you blame me?”

“Not really,” Optimus leaned down, enough for Ratchet to kiss him on the mouth. He slid his hand up and down Ratchet's pudgy belly and gave a hard pinch to the side of it.

"Now you're just not playing fair.” Ratchet groaned at him.

"No," Optimus agreed. "You can get out of berth whenever you want though," He said, then lowered his helm to his lover's neck cables, flicking his glossa against the nearest cable before he closed his mouth over it.

"Really unfair," Ratchet moaned, but he laid there for a moment, cycling air in heavily, letting the Prime do whatever he wanted to. Then he pulled away, pushed Ratchet over and onto his back, and climbed on top of him. Optimus’ spike had already been release and fully pressurized, and Ratchet had half wanted to take it all in his mouth right then and there.

"Okay," Ratchet hummed, running his servos up and down Optimus' thighs. "You're the boss.”

It turned out Optimus started with a belly rub. The Prime placed his servos on the chubby belly and slowly began rubbing his servos in different patterns over the softened plating. The flab was kneaded and jiggled as Optimus felt his sparkmate up before going for a more sensitive area.

Ratchet had had his optics offlined while his belly was being rubbed and was surprised when his mate had suddenly stopped. The he felt Optimus' fingers spreading him, his fingers sinking into soft thighs, and then stopping just short of Ratchet’s dripping valve, then lifting his hips, nudging his legs open. That was when he groaned, and while Optimus seemed to pause for a moment, he didn't stop. Ratchet felt something warm and soft pressed against his valve, then the hot flick of the Prime's glossa, and he groaned the other mech's designation.

"Are you saying you want me to stop?” Optimus asked, and Ratchet nearly sat up just to give him a disbelieving glare and a quick slab to the helm.

"I just want you to...! I just want you!”

Optimus smiled and kissed him lightly before the two spent an awkward moment sorting out where it’d be best for Ratchet's legs to go. Once they had just the right spot, Optimus started pushing into his mate, more easily than Ratchet had expected, but slowly, so slowly.

"All right?” Optimus asked him. 

The CMO nodded, most of his attention on the way it felt to be stretched around the Prime's spike, the electric jolt when Optimus hit his sweet spot, the slow rhythm of his thrusts. His servos roamed over Optimus' arms, his chassis, his back plating- there was so much of his sparkmate he’d been deprived of in the last twenty-four hours, hadn't touched in what seemed like years, and he needed to fix that. Ratchet wrapped his legs around Optimus’ hips, urging him in harder, deeper.

"Ratchet," Optimus said, and it was his deep rich voice that took him over the edge, left him gasping and panting, too lost in sensation to be self-conscious or embarrassed, even when he could see the Prime licking lubricant off his own servo. It didn't take him much longer, and Ratchet was still recovering when Optimus’ movements slowed and finally stopped.

"Don't move," Optimus said, before he pulled out carefully, and Ratchet ignored that to reach for a rag on a table next to their berth. When the Prime pouted at him, though, he left it that, lying still while Ratchet returned to the berth to dab Optimus' stomach and chassis clean, then his own pudgy belly.

"Ratchet come back here," Optimus whined just a bit when he seemed to be done, tugging his sparkmate back onto the berth.

"You could have just asked," Ratchet huffed, but he curled up against the Prime's side, helm on his shoulder, like he'd been made to fit there. “Mmmm, I love you, Optimus.”

Optimus nuzzled him in return and gently said back, “I love you too, Ratchet.”

**Author's Note:**

> Finished this story a bit early so I'd thought I'd post it early. Hope I did alright with this one like I did for the last story.


End file.
